


The World Need’s A Reset-scrap

by jessicafreakingrabbit



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: A Tale of Two Species, Coffee Shops, F/M, Gen, I love the smell of revolution in the morning, Obvious spoiler warning if you haven’t read the manga, Revolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 04:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14229393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicafreakingrabbit/pseuds/jessicafreakingrabbit
Summary: The plot of Tokyo ghoul is decided over lattes and pastries.





	The World Need’s A Reset-scrap

**Author's Note:**

> Thinking about making this a whole fic, but unsure yet. Here’s a little snippet of my favorite power couple. May edit later.

“Say something, anything, please?”

He has listen to her drabble on for hours now, not expecting the conversation to come back to him so suddenly. Everyone he knows will describe him as quite, reserve, untalkative but this is the first time Arima really has nothing to say.

_To get rid of V once and for all… is it really possible?_

She looks at him, her green eyes lingering on him, waiting for him to say something. An unusual characteristic for her, one he didn’t know she had, the ability to be silent.

Suddenly their meeting point no longer seems appropriate, not that it was to begin with. Meeting at a local café, talking like they weren’t who they are. Now look at them, discussing the fate of the ghoul and human world over coffee and pastries. The chatter of humans around them filling the void. Sometimes he wishes for their ignorance, jealous even. To be so blind to the inner workings of the society they lived in, not knowing who pulls the strings on all of their actions, it’s a peace he yearned for. The complexities of the world has gotten to him over the years. He supposes that’s how he has come to enjoy her company, despite being order to execute her many times. He chuckles, remembering that those at the CCG were ignorant themselves, not aware who actually pulls the strings in their organization.

It’s pouring out, the window they are sitting next to letting a peek into the hazy world. The platter of drop lits echoing off the glass creating a dreary atmosphere that seems to match their topic of discussion.

They’ve joked about this, dreamt of it even. A way for them to change the world, to change their circumstances. He just never thought she would actually come up with something, especially something as intricate as this. Once again, he underestimated her, a habit he seems unable to shake off.

He takes a sip of coffee, the warmth of the black liquid heating his body from within, pondering this more. A world without V, a world without the sunlit garden that birthed him and the other half-breed children whom are raised solely to be weapons then die out as quick as a dormant star.

A human life always seemed out of the question for him, a far fetch theory. Something only other people experience, but that time in second year, when he investigated Lanter, it changed him. He suddenly yearned for these simplicities. To have friends, a family, where there’s no chain around his neck and hobbies outside of taking the lives of others. Not even a hobby, this is what his life has been every single day since he was born. His sanity only being held together by small gestures like their weekly coffee meetings. And if anyone had the audacity to not only execute this, but pull this off? It’ll be Eto.

He carefully places his mug back down on the table and meets her gaze. “What do you need me to do?”

 


End file.
